


Nothing Else Brought Me Closer To God

by wuwu



Series: davekats [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, BARE: a pop opera - Freeform, Bullying, Catholicism, Established Relationship, High School, Homophobia, Humanstuck, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Religion, Religious Discussion, the bare au i desperately needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 05:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14867192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wuwu/pseuds/wuwu
Summary: Two boys. One cares more for individuality, the other for appearances. As they go through their senior year at St. Skaia's boarding school, both will be faced with trials that test their faith along with their relationship.





	Nothing Else Brought Me Closer To God

**Author's Note:**

> this is an au for the musical Bare: A Pop Opera !! i really love the musical and it means a lot to me and so i wanted to write an au for it !! i highly recommend watching/listening to the musical if you havent already, or put it off until this is over so you wont be spoiled !! either way i hope u enjoy :')

It’s quiet. The room is dark, lit only by candles at the front of the hall with the smallest hints of daylight peering in through the mosaics surrounding the pews. Karkat lifts his head and twists about, trying to get a look around the room. Empty. With a resigned sigh, he sits forward and rubs his eye with the sleeve of his cardigan.

_Mass should be starting soon._

With the passing of full lashes on browned cheeks, the surrounding pews are filled with peers, each holding onto a copy of the Holy Bible. Karkat glances up at the reverend where he’s situated behind a podium, microphone settled perfectly in front of him. He looks down with warm eyes, and Karkat feels himself relax under the lack of scrutiny.

“Welcome, students,” he greets with a smile. “I do hope that you all spent Christmas with your families in an environment of joy and harmony. We welcome you back to St. Skaia’s Boarding school on the feast of the Epiphany, which we all know to be the arrival of the Three Wise Men to pay homage to the Baby Jesus.” A murmur of agreement runs through the hall. “We can only imagine the joy they must have felt to reach their destination, relying only on their faith as they travelled. Likewise, I imagine you all must be feeling just as joyous as you reach your senior year at St. Skaia’s.”

A few hoots and hollers arise from the group, and Karkat does his best to not roll his eyes. Father nods and gives a soft chuckle.

“Now, we begin in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Let us take a moment to recall the times we’ve fallen from God’s grace; I confess—”

All of the students in the hall clasp their hands, finishing Father’s call for forgiveness. They do so with an ease that unsettles Karkat, but he ignores it in favor of asking for his own. Lord knows he’s sinned quite a lot. (It’s not like he _means_ to. It just happens.)

“And I asked blessed Mary,” Karkat mutters, “ever virgin, and all the angels and saints. And you, my brothers and sisters, to pray for me to the Lord, our God.” He lowers his hands slowly, eyes opening with a delay that leaves him feeling sluggish.

What he doesn’t expect is for everyone to rise, feet stomping as they face him, and he turns around like a deer in headlights. Their coordination leaves him perturbed, and before he can question what he’s meant to do, they open their mouths and leave him with anxiety brewing in his veins.

“Yes, pray for him, to the Lord, your God!”

Karkat stands as well and begins to hurry down the pews, shoulders hunched and back turned to Father. He has to leave. They know something. What do they know? What’s going on? This isn’t mass.

Before he can get too far, a few students block his way and leer at him. They feign innocence, smiles dripping with malice, and Karkat feels sick to his stomach as they mock him.

“Didn’t you know?” Vriska snickers. “This one just isn’t right.” She flips her hair back before settling on his eyes, teeth baring as she takes a step forward. “Isn’t that right, Karkat? You know what I mean, right?”

Eridan follows behind her, scarf in hand, and _tuts_. He throws it around Karkat’s neck, pulling him close so he can whisper into his ear. What comes out feels decibels higher than what it probably is. “Looking around in gym certainly gives that impression,” he informs. “We all know how much you enjoy it.” His voice sounds hollow, and if Karkat were in his right mind he’d have brushed him off by now. He feels frozen, glued to the spot. “Your thoughts enslave you, Kar.” With a swift flick of his hand, Eridan wraps the scarf around Karkat’s neck, eyes alight as he shouts to his peers. “Somebody save him!”

The next voice is detached, simply a passing thought in the commotion of students shuffling to block the exits.

“Careful, Karkat,” it echoes. “Your romance is doomed.”

He clamps his hands over his ears. Sweat pours down his face.

“You sacrificed your soul to feed your vice.”

There’s a growing pain in his forehead as the commotion’s volume rises. Dozens of conversations about nothing bounce through the hall, colliding and piercing and muddling every other jab that tries to wound Karkat further. He drops to his knees and tries to push out every offending thought that comes his way.

They can’t know. He’s been so careful.

Terezi kneels before him, relaying the prominent thought resounding throughout the hall. “You already know you’re headed straight for damnation,” she states. “Maybe if you pray enough, the Saints will take pity on you. But, you know, Heaven is just. Discipline will follow.”

“Shut up,” he chokes out. “Everybody _shut up!_ ” His chest heaves, heart hammering against his ribcage as tears force their way forward. This is too much. He needs out, he needs to leave, he needs to go _now_.

“Poor Kankri,” Kanaya laments. At this, Karkat’s head snaps up. She stares down at him with distaste, hand poised under her chin as she bores into what’s left of him. “You’re going to make him suffer like this? Leave him to bear the shame of what you’ve become? After everything your doting brother has done for you?”

“Kanaya, it’s not like that,” he shouts. There’s a desperation in his voice that leaves him hoarse, throat strained with the pain of alienation. “I’m not—You _know_ me. Kanaya, please, I—”

“Oh, that poor boy… If only you weren’t so selfish. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like one of you,” she tells him calmly.

“There’s nothing wrong with us,” he cries out. “There’s nothing wrong with _him_.”

“God is always watching!” Terezi reminds him. “He knows you for what you are, Karkat, and he’ll expose you in due time. You had it coming, really. Did you think I’d let you taint us with your lack of conscience? Your lack of faith?”

“You don’t know anything,” Karkat snarls. “None of you do!” He feels ready to collapse, ready to give in to the accusations and the consequences that come with accepting them.

“I think we know enough,” Vriska barks out. “Or maybe we should ask _him_ ourselves? See how damned you really are.” Karkat’s face blanches, and at that she laughs.

“Leave him out of this,” he pleads. “He’s done nothing wrong.” The laughter spreads, and Karkat hisses at the pain that shoots through his skull. “Everybody, just shut up.” It grows and grows, pushing him down until he’s nothing more than a crying mess, screaming against the pressure that constricts his being. “ _Enough!_ ”

 

* * *

 

Karkat startles awake, eyes snapping open as he sucks in a breath of air. His hands are shaking against the wood of the pew he sits on, feet planted forcefully on the ground as he tries to gather his bearings. The hall is quiet, the only noise being the sound of the priest’s comforting words to the group. Dave glances at him worriedly from his spot next to him, hand gently nudging his thigh.

“Inspire us as we leave this place to love and serve You always,” Father closes.

Karkat stares at Dave, heart going crazy as he looks him over. He’s not sure if he should feel relieved to see the boy knowing that he isn’t in harm’s way. There’s a part of him that’s overrun with terror and self loathing, fearful for the days to come. He tries to find comfort in his eyes obscured partly by lowered shades as the room ends mass along with Father.

As Dave mutters his own closure, Karkat releases a shuddering breath.

“Thanks be to God.”


End file.
